Making Monsters
by Ironi Numair
Summary: 5 Times Loki loved his children, then the tale of Vali Lokison. Loki's adolescent son deals with the loss of his father and his own hurting family, all the while working his way upward in the house of Odin, right to the throne itself. Some Loki/Sigyn.
1. Mother of Monsters

AN: The other kinkmeme fic I'm working on at LJ. This chapter is the original fill, the following chapters its sequel, because writing for Vali was fun. Rating will go up for later chapters._  
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Prompt: _Loki is known as the Mother of Monsters by the Asgardians. But to his kids he's dad, and a great one. Can I have 5 times someone was surprised by how much Loki loves his kids, and one time someone else loved them too?_

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><p><strong>Making Monsters<strong>

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><p>"I am practicing my spells and will <em>not<em> be disturbed."

Loki slammed the double doors in his brother's face. Thor had the instant urge to thrust them right back open, hopefully into Loki's nose, but as satisfactory as that would be, it would also be but a fleeting moment, and what Thor wanted was a good laugh.

When Loki performed his magic before others, it was always something he'd perfected. The learning process itself was kept private behind locked doors such as the ones before Thor now. How many misfires, backfires, and other things gone amiss that could only end in fire occurred while Loki perfected his craft? His elder brother wished to find out.

Loki was not the only Asgardian capable of mischief, and while Thor's attempts could hardly be comparable with his brother's more robust acts, he had the occasional desire all the same. Loki was also not the only one who remembered all the small passages they had used when they were children, and there was one that led right to this room. It would be a tight fit, but he would still manage.

Though in the meantime, Thor had to admit to himself that without the Warriors Three and Lady Sif about, his boredom did seem to grow to monstrous sizes. Annoying his mouthy little brother because he could just happened to be the best way to alleviate it.

Once certain he would not be seen, Thor stepped out of the passage into Loki's sanctuary. The room was large, almost a hall in itself, with high ceilings and arched windows. Pillars reached up from the floors along the three windowless walls, and it was in their shadows Thor hid himself. In the center of the room was a green marble circle that encompassed a mosaic of Yggdrasil, its leaves golden. It was just a tree in daylight, but when the night fell one could see all the nine realms depicted there. Loki strode to this spot, and it was then Thor could see his brother was not alone.

Hel sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting for her father. If you could only see one side of her, she was a pretty little girl with dark hair and green eyes like her father. It was her other side that disturbed all who saw her. The half-face and body of an old, rotting woman, her hair sparse and her other green eye milked over with cataract. She half hobbled when she moved, her arms held out in front of her like the partially undead she was. Thor dared not think of how she would be when she was grown, but for now she was still a child, and one who brightened when her father entered the room.

Loki stood across from his daughter and began without preamble, "Are you ready?"

Hel smiled and bounced on her rear in excitement in a way only a little girl could.

"All right." He smiled, a wicked twist of his mouth, "Find Daddy!"

The circle was suddenly filled with Lokis, dozens of them, each moving on its own and reacting to another, one even juggling fruit. Hel climbed to her feet and dashed forward to where Loki had been standing mere seconds before, but her hands pass through her target. She moved among the simulacra, her hands passing through them as she sought her father, but they avoided her while some tried to lead her to distraction by calling "Over here, I'm over here!"

She stilled then, listening as the false images of her father surrounded her. Moving swiftly, she lunged just behind and to the right of where she stood and her arms wrapped around a corporeal waist. As one, the simulacra turned and applauded, then vanished.

"Very good," Loki praised, lifting her into his arms, "much faster than last time!"

Hel beamed, her aged side splitting into wrinkles and cracks, and threw her arms around his neck before giving him a wet kiss on the cheek.

And Thor, still in shadow, wondered where his conniving, sharp-tongued brother had been hiding _this_ facet of himself for so many years. He then sadly realized it had been hidden behind big double doors, away from him, the whole time.

* * *

><p>There were few things that Sif, proud warrior of the Aesir, truly feared, but there were certainly many things in the realms that creeped her out.<p>

She came across one of these things as she passed through a courtyard of Gladsheim. Autumn was approaching, and while the leaves on the trees were still green, their edges began to take on a faint golden cast. She heard yipping and laughter and assumed the hunting hounds were being exercised again, but when she rounded the corner she saw only Loki, crouched in the dirt with his head and upper torso in the jaws of the monstrous wolf Fenrir.

Sif had little love for Loki, but she had her duty to the realm and he was a son of Odin. More importantly the little brother of her closest friend. She reached for her blade, her body prepping for battle. "Loki!"

"Got it! Hold still, this may hurt..." came his muffled voice from inside the wolf's maw, having heard her not at all.

Fenrir yelped then whined as Loki extricated himself from his child's mouth, strings of saliva dangling off him and mussing his normally immaculate hair. In his hand he held a bloody fang, nearly as long as his forearm.

"There now, is that better?" he asked, rubbing his free hand on Fenrir's muzzle and holding up the fang for better viewing, "Look at that, that's beautiful."

The wolf lapped at the bloody hole in his mouth and whined, long and deep.

"It will grow back, don't worry yourself. What would you like done with it? I hear the mortals of Midgard trade their teeth for coin from the elves or some such nonsense."

Fenrir rumbled in his throat and dragged his tongue over his father's thigh, leaving more saliva in its passing. Loki didn't seem to mind.

"Thank you, my son, 'tis a lovely gift." Examining the curved tooth, Loki held it up close to his head, "What do you think, a new helmet, perhaps?"

Fenrir snorted.

"Well, what do _you_ know about armor anyway," Loki grumbled and tucked the fang into a pouch on his hip.

Despite his large size, Fenrir was barely older than a pup and still desired varying attentions from his father. With a _whuf_, he tried dropping his too-big head on Loki's shoulder, nearly knocking the trickster over.

"What? Oh, I know what you want," Loki said with a broadening smile, "Sweet spot."

Fenrir rolled onto his side, paws in the air. Loki climbed over his forelegs and onto his belly where he began to scratch furiously. He shifted until he found a spot right under the wolf's ribs where Fenrir's hind leg began to kick and his tongue lolled out of his mouth in pleasure.

"There it is! Sweet spot!" Loki crowed, not minding the loose fur flying everywhere, "Ah, you love that! Keep going!"

It was not the overly saccharine display of Thor's younger brother playing with his monstrous child that made Sif's eye twitch and her hand to remain on her sword in a white-knuckled grip, it was Loki's voice. Broken free from its usual calm restraint, it was a keening falsetto that would make any eunuch proud.

Sif hurried from the courtyard, knowing that that horrible voice would haunt her nightmares for centuries to come.

* * *

><p>"Put it back."<p>

"I caught it, it's mine to do with as I please."

This was not how Tony Stark wanted to spend his Friday, or any day of the week.

News of a beached whale was hardly the concern of an Avenger, but a beached blue whale was certainly worth note, especially when the thing was dragged ashore by their local God of Mischief, Strife, and all around Obnoxiousness.

Said god was currently reclining on the dying animal, sunbathing in full armor and a pair of sunglasses he'd apparently stolen from a six-year-old girl, plastic star-shaped frames and all.

Tony should have known this mission was a bust when, upon hearing that Loki was involved, Thor didn't come flying out to the beach at all speed to confront his brother. The Thunder God had instead opted to continue eating his morning cereal as though nothing was amiss. So Iron Man was here instead, under the blazing sun in his armor next to a giant smelly whale with a bitchy Norse god. There had to be a joke about this somewhere.

He sighed and looked at the whale. He felt sorry for the thing. "Just how _bored_ are you?"

Loki reached up and pulled the ridiculous sunglasses down his nose, glaring at Tony over the top point. "If I was bored, Avenger, you'd damn well _know_ it."

True.

"Blue whales are on the endangered species list, you know."

"You can hardly blame that on _me_."

A part of Tony wondered why he hadn't started shooting yet. He was in perfect range; the Trickster had let him get amazingly close, almost standing on top of him.

"You're blocking my light."

"Why the whale? They didn't have any beach chairs to your liking?"

Loki slid the glasses back into place and lay back, the horns of his helmet supporting his head in a comfortable position. "Does a father need a reason to give his child a present?"

The people crowded on the beach, some in the midst of whale rescue efforts, began to make a commotion. Tony looked out beyond the surf where they were pointing to where the water began to churn and froth as something _very large_ moved beneath the surface.

Loki stood, tossing the sunglasses over his shoulder and dusting off non-existent sand. "Here he is."

The head of a serpent of unimaginable size broke the surface with all the glory of a bad Japanese monster flick. Its fins and spines uncoiled and acid dripped from between its jagged teeth. Its red eyes roamed about until they settled on Loki who waved.

"DINNER!" the Trickster God shouted over the sound of the surf and screams of civilians.

The monster dragged its tongue over its teeth and fell upon the whale like a giant snake, its law unhinging to engulf the animal's bulk, easily devouring the largest animal in the world. Tony could hear the sound of a thousand cell phone cameras clicking and groaned. He activated the suit's jets and moved back from the whale, hovering a safe distance away. He wasn't too surprised when Loki appeared next to him, suspended in the air by his magic.

"That's your _kid_?"

"Jormungandr," Loki said with pride.

"What did you do, bang Godzilla?"

"You're just jealous of my awesome godly sperm."

When the whale was gone Jormungandr lay partially strewn out on the beach, happily digesting. Loki dropped down in front of his son and rested his arms on the tip of the enormous snout.

"Did my little sea-horror enjoy his meal?"

Jormungandr belched with enough force to send Loki's cape flapping.

Loki flicked some fish guts off his shoulder. "That's good. On your way, now, before the mortals manage to gather their pathetic defenses, for all the good it would do them."

With a rumble deep inside his throat, Jormungandr raised his great head and retreated back into the surf.

"And no deep-sea swimming for at least half an hour, you hear me!"

Jormungandr vanished beneath the waves, gone save the occasional sound picked up by SOSUS.

Tony dropped down beside the trickster god. "Is that it for today?" It was honestly more than enough.

"That's it. Maybe," Loki said with a too-wide grin, and then he vanished, leaving the Ironman standing alone with a crab.

And he was certain that Loki was trying to say something with _that_.

* * *

><p>"Don't you dare wake them," Frigga said firmly to her husband.<p>

"I need Sleipnir."

"You can wait until tomorrow."

"No, my love, I cannot."

"I wasn't aware you were making a journey to Helheim."

Odin sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. Sleipnir was the only steed able to charge into that gloomy realm. "I'm not."

"Then you can take another horse, for once. You have many fine stallions, make use of them."

"I shouldn't _have_ to," the All-Father muttered to himself, leaning on the stall to see what his queen was making such a fuss about.

Sleipnir had settled his great bulk onto the floor, his eight legs tucked under him and his head drooping in sleep. The King of Horses did not make it a habit to sleep on the floor, but Odin immediately saw the reason for this change. Loki too was asleep, slumped against Sleipnir's shoulders with his head tilted back and mouth partially open. An open book rested on his lap, slipped free from his lax hands.

Odin rested his head in his hands. "I thought I made it clear he was to stop these visitations to Sleipnir."

Frigga shot him a look so inflamed he actually felt burning in his brain. "He's Loki's _child_."

"And Loki is _mine_, and I will not stand him to suffer rumors and cruel accusations!"

"I doubt he minds them, my love."

"He is the son of a king, he _should_."

Frigga drummed two of her fingers lightly on the wood of the stall. "Two kings," she mused.

"Don't start," Odin growled, "we agreed."

His queen spoke not a word, but her eyes said everything. It was true, when it came to the matter of Loki's heritage, they rarely agreed on anything.

Odin regarded the quiet scene before him again, his eye drifting to the book that had fallen from Loki's hands. He recognized the bright, colorful binding. A children's book from which he used to read stories to Thor and Loki when they were small. It was a special occasion when he could do so, as his duties often kept him from his sons outside official functions. On these rare instances, his boys would become so excited by his presence that they would get all riled up rather than settle down to sleep. In the end, the book would be forgotten and Odin would tell his sons of his great battles throughout the nine realms, Thor tucked under his arm and Loki pressed close behind him, draping over his shoulder, their mouths open and eyes wide in wonder.

And here was the very same book in Loki's hands, his son tucked up behind him. It was not a book Loki would read for himself; he'd been reading to Sleipnir, as his father had read to him.

The hard resolve within Odin softened and he sighed in defeat.

"I suppose some of the other horses could do with proper exercise." He turned to leave, but glanced over his shoulder at his son and grandchild. "And I think it best we ensure no one disturbs them."

"A novel idea, my Lord," Frigga said, putting her arms around him. He might have found her words patronizing but the slight but brilliant smile she gave him.

That smile was his alone.

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><p>When Fenrir grew fierce and thirsted for battle and blood, he was bound by his own kin and hidden away. When Jormungandr's length and girth grew too great for the corridors of the citadel, Odin cast him into the sea of Midgard. And when Hel's appearance and mood disturbed all who saw her, she too was banished from Asgard to Helheim where she was left alone to rule.<p>

Loki, bereft of his children, cast aside that he held dear, his own pride, and knelt at the feet of Odin, begging the return and freedom of his offspring.

This Odin refused.

And so, when the feasting began and Baldur stood before his kin, perfect and radiant, it was Loki, hidden in the shadows in the back of the hall, who gave Hodur the mistletoe and guided his hand.

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><p>The observatory was gone, but Heimdall's duty remained as it ever had been and still he stood as Asgard's Gatekeeper. Still he maintained his watch, his infinite vision scanning the cosmos for threats or answers still asked of him by an Aesir prince. But his eyes also fell to Asgard itself, guarding it from within as well as without.<p>

Which was how he knew the boy was coming long before the sound of his footsteps, quick and in full sprint, reached his ears. He swung out his arm and caught the adolescent in the chest before he leapt off the jagged edge of the bridge.

"Let me go, Heimdall!" Vali yelled, pushing against the Guardian's strong arm, "I'm a sorcerer too, I can go where my father does! I can do it!"

"You would cause your mother more tears?"

Spoken softly, Heimdall's words reach Loki's son better than a shout ever could. He stilled and slumped against the outstretched arm.

"I'd do it for her...For all of us..."

Were Heimdall any other man, he might have flinched at the words, so similar to ones spoken not too long ago by another desperate son. Instead he moved his arm from Vali's chest until his hand rested on the boy's shoulder.

"Your father is gone." The words needed to be said; there was no cruelty behind them.

Vali began to shake, his face fell and tears dripped from his eyes. He could try to be a man not a minute longer.

"I don't know what to do, Heimdall. What fate is there for the sons of a...a _traitor_?"

And even Heimdall had no immediate answer. Loki's crimes were well known throughout the realm now, and Vali carried more than his name, but the curse of his looks as well. More than that, he followed his father's footsteps in magic and proved talented. All eyes were on him, judging every move he made without a care of its intent, for he was Loki's son.

"One of your own making," the Gatekeeper intoned, unable to help but to squeeze the young man's shoulder in comfort, "One for those still here with you." His all-seeing eyes flicked over his shoulder briefly, and Vali followed them.

Standing behind them on the bridge, panting and shaking, stood Nari, youngest son of Loki.

"Brother," he hiccupped, extending his little arms, "don't leave me!"

Vali's eyes widened in horror. He'd thought his brother unaware of his departure, much less capable of _following_ him all this way, and now faced with his despair felt nothing but shame.

"No," he whispered, hurrying to his baby brother and pulling him into his arms, "No, no, I wasn't going anywhere!" Vali could lie as easily as his father when necessary, "I was just talking to Heimdall, I would never go anywhere without you!"

Nari sniffed and, in either relief or disbelief, buried his face in Vali's neck and wailed, dribbling tears and snot onto his brother's high collar. His hands clung to fabric and his legs wrapped around Vali's waist, refusing to let go. Vali remained crouched where he was, rocking his brother slightly for some moments until he quieted, and then stood.

"Heimdall," he began, all the bluster of youth from before now gone, "I..."

"If I see anything, you will be the first to know, Vali Lokison."

Vali stared, taken aback. Nobody actually called him Lokison anymore, as though the name itself were tainted. It was a small thing, really, and yet it suddenly meant so much.

"Thank you, Heimdall," he said, and Heimdall was well aware he was speaking of more than simply keeping an eye out.

Nothing more needs to be said, and the son of Loki begins to make the long trek home. For a moment, Heimdall can see Vali's thoughts, plans being spun as a spider would its web. Of taking his mother and brother away from Asgard, to Vanaheim, or even Midgard if necessary. Just _away_.

And then his thoughts were shut away, and Heimdall could not see Vali at all.


	2. A Fate Unkind

"Am I cursed?"

Vali arched his brows in the face of his brother's ridiculous question, all the while his thumbs ran reassuring circles over Nari's faintly blue hands.

"No, what nonsense is that? You're just cold."

"M'not..." Nari sniffed. It was a warm spring night, and what cooling breezes it brought were held off in the great hall by the fires and many bodies, heated by drink and merriment. It was impossible to be cold. Yet Nari had dashed among the legs of drunken adults to latch onto Vali, whimpering and strangely blue-ish. Vali left the hall as quickly as possible, his baby brother in his arms, and returned to their wing of the palace.

It was late and most of the servants were enjoying the feast, so there were no stares or questions asked as Vali carried his brother into their private sitting room and started a fire with a flick of his hand. He sat Nari on the couch opposite the fireplace and looked him over carefully. In the dim light, he could barely make out the strange discoloration and began to wonder if he ever saw it.

Vali ran his fingers slowly down Nari's arm, searching for any signs of enchantment or wayward magic. He found none (his father was so much better at this, but he was _gone_) and watched in fascination as the skin returned to its original color in the wake of his touch. Weird.

He smiled and pat his brother on the head in reassurance. "Perhaps you have a bit of the shape changing about you, like Father. What a thought!"

Nari looked neither relieved or happy at that thought and sat staring at his hands dejectedly. "I don't want to be like Father..." he muttered, head dropping, "he was bad. Magic makes you bad..."

Vali sat back on his haunches in shock. His own _brother_... But Nari was young, and easily influenced by the words of others. He had to fix this.

"Our father wasn't evil, Nari. I have magic, am I bad?"

Nari shook his head, barely looking at his elder brother. "No."

"You see? Magic doesn't..."

"But you will be."

With four softly spoken words, Nari stabbed Vali through the chest. Vali jumped back from him, nearly landing in the fire. A part of him wished he had.

"I don't need to hear that, not from you!" Vali snarled, his voice strangled with a thickening throat. "And how dare you listen to what those fools say about our father! How dare you..."

Loki wasn't evil, he _wasn't!_ And neither was Vali, his son. His son who was far too old to be bursting into tears on the floor of their home, but he did it anyway.

Little arms wrapped around his neck and hugged tight. Nari sniffled in his ear, soaking Vali's shoulder.

"I don't want you to be bad. Then you'll go away."

He'd never been able to stay mad at his brother. The situation was so ridiculous that Vali couldn't help but snicker a little. "Then I won't be. I'll stay with you and keep you safe forever. Even when you're grown and trying to bed women, there I'll be and you'll think me the worst big brother ever."

Nari giggled. "Promise?"

"I promise."


	3. A God of Truth

Vali often made use of the sunlight that streamed through their window to recline on the couch and study. His nephew, Skoll, was kind enough to chase Sól to where the angle of light was best, so it was not uncommon to find both Vali and Loki sharing that couch at the same hours of the day. Though Vali, as a boy, found the heavy texts and magic spells boring and would find more interest in annoying his father.

He was still small when he flopped back and placed his feet on Loki's arm, walking them upwards to his shoulder and then sticking his toe in Loki's ear.

"Stop that before I turn you into a fish. Then what would you do?" Loki said, not looking away from his own book.

Vali clambered to his knees and dropped onto his father's lap. "I would flop about until I found water, like this!" and he proceeded to do so.

"Well then," Loki tossed the book over his shoulder and grabbed his squirming child, "I would have to catch you like this! Then I would take you to the kitchens where they will cook you and I will present you as a meal to my brother!"

"Ah! Nooo!" Vali squealed as his father made to eat him.

Sigyn, quietly stitching in the chair nearby, made a point not to look at them as she said, "Loki, stop threatening to feed our son to Thor."

"He'd barely make a bite," Loki smirked, but set his son back on the couch.

"Then you should make me a whale," Vali whispered, and Loki laughed.

Skoll did not disappoint today, and the sun dipped just so. Vali sat on the couch, a book in hand and alone in the room. This had become the norm after a while, as Vali no longer needed someone to force him to study, he found pleasure in it on his own, and Nari would take walks through the garden with his nursemaid at this time. But it was different, now. His father was gone, not merely busy, and his mother was stuck smoothing things over in court for the sake of her princeling sons.

Vali wouldn't go. He could no longer bear the looks of his fellow Aesir, of Odin's odd one-eyed stare, of his uncle not looking at him at all. He had nothing to say to them anyway. He never did.

The door to the sitting room banged open and in stormed his mother. The look on her face made him hold off on any greetings and as she began to mutter and curse to herself he wondered if she knew he was there.

"If I hear one more remark on how truly _relieved_ I must be," Sigyn snarled, tearing her cloak from her shoulders and tossing it aside, "As though I should be _glad_ for the loss of my husband...!" Her walk to the couch was not a graceful one, and she dropped onto it as though exhausted, her head resting on her hand.

Vali looked carefully at his mother. Behind the anger he could see the deadening sorrow left behind when Loki fell. She'd wept for over a day straight, neither eating nor sleeping. It was a common misconception among those in the court that the marriage of Sigyn and Loki had been a loveless one, and Vali had never understood where that had come from.

It was true that the marriage had been an arranged one. When it became official that the succession of the throne would fall to Thor (a warrior who was oft away on dangerous missions), the question of an heir had arisen. With Loki, the second son, this would normally not be an issue, save that Thor often dragged his brother with him into danger. Who would take the throne after Odin should ill befall the sons of the All-Father? Yet Thor was not prepared for marriage, and having a grown son awaiting his own kingship for such a span of time was inviting ambition and treachery. So the second son, whose children (viable children, in the eyes of the Aesir, who often ignored his monstrous offspring) would likely never reach the throne, was betrothed as soon as possible.

Sigyn was a distant cousin on Frigga's side of strong lineage and good disposition. Her patience was great and Odin could think of no better match for his mischievous son. There was a great banquet before the wedding, and this was the first time Loki and Sigyn had met. From what Vali had heard, they mostly ignored each other. He had heard Sigyn once reference what she called their 'personal pre-wedding party' to his father and he concluded from the details that the two had later snuck off to get to know each other on their own terms.

During the wedding itself they remained mostly indifferent. Loki, in full armor, and Sigyn in her finest dress knelt before the All-Father and his Queen. Odin spoke to the gathered Asgardians of the duties and joys of marriage, of the unions and the lives to come from it, while Frigga dipped a fir branch into the mead produced by the goat Heidrun and sprinkled it upon her son and new daughter.

Vali had once asked Sigyn when she knew she loved his father.

"It was during the wedding, my love," she told him as he sat bundled in blankets in her lap upon her bed. Loki was away with Thor, and Vali had hated sleeping alone. "Some of the mead got in my eye, and it burned so. But the ceremony was so important, and Odin was speaking, I was afraid to draw attention to myself and reach up to wipe it clear! But Loki noticed, and in the middle of everything, he reached out and wiped the mead from my eye. Then he actually turned to his mother the Queen and said 'Please try not to blind my bride, Mother.' Then he smiled at me, and it was such a wicked thing that I fell in love with him right then and there."

They exchanged gifts then, Loki presenting Sigyn with a ring (essence of the Bifrost he'd forged himself with magic, mostly just to see if he _could_), and she to him the sword of her father, who had fallen on Jotunheim. They both clasped the hilt, their hands touching. Sigyn spoke her vows to her new husband, promising him her loyalty, her property to share, her partnership in all things, and the children she would bear him. Then it was Loki's turn.

He reached up and placed his free hand over hers, so that her ringed hand sat cradled between both of his, and stared at her with such intensity that she shuddered. He spoke to her, softly, but loud enough for all to hear.

"I promise you nothing."

Save a few gasps, the hall fell silent. There was nothing to do without halting the ceremony, and so, with a furious glare at his son, Odin called for the race to the dining hall. The party that arrived last, either the bride or the groom's, was to serve the drinks, but there were enough servants and it was more or less a tradition that survived for the sake of its cheer.

Loki smiled at Sigyn, slapped on her on the arm playfully and said, "Your side's serving tonight," and vanished in green smoke, sword and all. When the parties arrived in the hall, he was there, sitting on the dining table looking quite smug.

Once, Vali had asked his father on his lack of vows. "Surely you humiliated her that day, Father. That is cruel, even for you."

"I respect your mother, even then. I wasn't about to give her false promises I would later break. Amazing woman that she is, she understood."

"I would rather the harsh truth from him than a lie," Sigyn told Vali when he'd asked her on the matter.

"But he's the god of lies!"

"What nonsense," she scoffed and adjusted a suckling Nari at her breast, "your father is the god of truth."

Even at such a young age, Vali looked at his mother as though she were insane. Perhaps she loved Loki _too_ much and had grown blind to him over the years. "A god of truth who _lies_ all the time?"

"Is your uncle an actual lightning bolt?"

He blinked. "No."

"Yet he is the god of thunder. Thor is powerful, he is flashy, he is brilliant to behold, but he is not the thunder itself. Your father indeed lies, he misleads, he tricks and he deceives, and in doing so he can recognize a lie in another within the first spoken word. Through his mischief we see the reactions of his victims, we see their true selves. It is easy to tell others who we are, but it is only in the face of adversity and loss that we realize who we are. That is what your father does."

It sounded convincing, yet Vali wasn't sure he believed her. After all, truth was a matter of perspective, wasn't it?

As the feasting went on songs were sung and Thor raised a toast to his little brother. Loki triumphed in more than a few flytings. A servant brought Sigyn the marriage cup, filled with mead, which she carried to Loki, seated on the other side of the table. He drank from it, then handed it her as she sat beside him, and she drank before the servant took it away again. She sat beside him for the rest of the feast, though neither spoke to the other, until they retired to their marriage bed. Or at least to Loki's chambers, where he kicked the door shut in the faces of their witnesses.

So Loki and Sigyn had stood awkwardly in the large room, gazing at each other, until Loki began removing his armor.

"This was rather sudden, I'll not force you into anything. You may do whatever."

And Sigyn did. Her mind made up, she leapt onto his back, her arms around his neck. "I shall! I'm a princess now, and you shall carry my royal person to the marriage bed!"

Vali had no interest in hearing the rest of the story. He suffered through his parents' affections in person as it was. His father enjoyed magically appearing behind Sigyn and wrapping his arms around her, often frightening her greatly. One time he did so while she was stitching and she stabbed the needle fully into his hand.

Loki did not become angry, but hissed in his wife's ear, "You have injured your husband, you must be punished." He then licked her ear, and Vali, sitting across the room, wanted to bury his face in the pillows in disgust.

"Oh yes, punish me, my lord," she whispered, and he scooped her up and, to Vali's relief, carried her to their room, away from him.

Nari had been born not too long after.

Wherever the rumor of their loveless marriage had come from, his parents had done nothing to disprove it. If anything, he began to suspect they purposefully encouraged it for their own amusement. During festivities, as soon as they entered the hall they would part and ignore each other for the rest of the night. Once, Sigyn had even begun flirting with an Aesir of good standing in view of all.

They'd returned home later and Loki, laughing, had called her a whore. Vali had learned the precludes to their foreplay long ago and, grabbing his little brother's hand, fled the room.

There had been some good of it. His uncle, Thor, well believing that his dear nephew suffered in a loveless household, often took him out on local adventures, showering him in attention and showing him off to his friends. (It was about this time that Vali developed a crush on Sif and followed her everywhere.)

It was all gone, now.

Vali only saw his father once the day he fell from the Bifrost. There'd been something _off_ about him, a manic gleam in his eye that had Vali step out of his way as he walked by. He knew now that he'd been heading to the Bifrost, to grant the Frost Giants entrance, to try to kill Heimdall.

To destroy all of Jotunheim.

And Vali knew that Loki had faced his own truth that day, and it had shattered him.

He was snapped out of his musings by his mother's hand on his knee.

"Odin wishes to speak to you tonight, after dinner," Sigyn said, the anger gone from her face and leaving only tiredness and sorrow. How Vali wished to fix that, to make her happy again.

"Me? Alone?" He tried to ignore how his voice broke on the word.

"He's not going to bite," she sighed.

No, something worse, Vali thought. His adolescent mind, expanded in many pathways of thought by magic, often cursed him with over exaggerated imagination, and he envisioned banishment, torment, or servitude by the All-Father for his magic, for being Lokison.

He pondered trying to jump off the Bifrost again instead.


	4. Forgiveness

Vali spent the rest of the day wringing his hands and dreading his upcoming confrontation with his grandfather. Strange now, that the hour approached, the only thought to go through his head was that he _didn't know what to wear_.

He finally settled on his dress robes. They were similar in design to his father's court clothes, but Vali had always had a preference for the color blue over green. Besides, the high collar would ensure he kept his head up; he was Loki's son, and he was not ashamed of that fact. It was now his hair that was the real problem.

Sigyn was the only one who had learned how to get his wild hair to lay flat and manageable. Vali was Loki's son, anyone could see that by looking at him, but so was he Sigyn's son and his dark hair was thick and curled in all directions. But his mother was not here and he had to manage it on his own. He attempted it with magic and only succeeded in making it worse; it took all his effort just to get it back to normal. He finally gave up and made do with tucking his long bangs behind his ears.

The walk to Odin's private study seemed longer than usual and Vali avoided making eye contact with those he passed, focusing instead on keeping his head up and his hands still. Then he was there, standing outside the grand door so suddenly he couldn't remember the journey at all. He reached up to knock when the door swung open of its own accord.

Odin was not in the study. Vali stepped in and looked around and, finding the balcony doors open, ventured outside. Odin stood overlooking his city, silhouetted as the sun set beyond the sea.

"All-Father," Vali said politely, hands clasped behind his back.

Odin barely turned and bade Vali to come stand beside him. Vali did so, resting his hands on the rail to watch the setting sun. They stood in silence for a long time.

"I would ask your forgiveness," Odin said, his voice soft.

Vali remained silent, too shocked to speak, though he didn't know if it was his grandfather's words or the shattering of the quiet that had done so. Probably both.

Odin continued regardless. "It is easy to look back and say what could have been done, or what _should_ have, but that doesn't change what has occurred. Perhaps if I had been honest with him, and told him what he meant to me, your father would still be here with us."

"I don't..." Vali began, but his voice died. He didn't blame Odin or anyone for what happened that day. But then, while he was aware of the events that occurred, he didn't know what had caused them, and that was the most crucial part of the puzzle.

"Let me finish before you speak, you may not feel the same when I am done."

"Yes, All-Father."

"I cannot change what has happened, but I can ensure it will not happen again. There will be no more lies."

There was a finality and sorrow in those last words that made Vali's hands tighten on the rail. Odin finally faced his grandson, his remaining eye bright with emotion though his face remained blank, and placed his hands on Vali's shoulders. Vali was growing, and yet he was still amazed at how his grandfather towered over him.

"What I am about to reveal to you may be difficult to accept, but know that, as I will always love Loki as my son regardless what happens, you are and shall always be my beloved grandchild."

"Of course," said Vali. How else could it be?

Odin nodded, accepting the answer. "Come then, there is much to discuss," and he turned and left the study, Vali following.

He followed him all the way down into the Vault until he stood facing the Casket of Ancient Winters.


	5. Crystal Epiphany

"Did you know? Of course you did..."

Vali sat on the broken Bifrost, his legs dangling over the edge and boots soaked from the constant spray of water. Behind him, ever watching, stood Heimdall, a distracted Nari sitting at his feet.

"You never thought to tell my father? To tell _me_?"

"It is not my place to do so."

"No, I suppose not. Your vast powers are for the safety of Asgard and the realms," Vali mused. He drew up his legs and rested his chin on his knees. "I can appreciate that."

"Do you ever eat?" Nari interrupted, gazing up at Heimdall. Their discussion went over his head and he hardly cared; adults never talked about anything interesting and Vali was close enough to one these days.

Heimdall glanced down at the boy, draping himself over the Guardian's feet. "I require no sustenance to maintain my vigil."

"Oh. Well, do you want me to bring you something anyway?"

"Nari," Vali called, "Stop harassing Heimdall and come here, I have something to tell you." He'd been putting it off for too long. All day he'd found excuses, things that needed to be done, answers that needed to be had and thoughts to organize. But he owed it to his brother to stop procrastinating and just _say it_.

After Odin had unveiled the truth, as Vali stood there before the All-Father stripped of everything Aesir and Jotnar both to become something new, Vali had reigned in every stray emotion that tried to emerge, balled it up, and swallowed it. He told his grandfather he understood, and, strangely, he did. He went home, back rigid and fist trembling, and wait for his mother, and when she returned he let loose a bit of the ball of bile and confusion and told her everything.

She sat, quiet, long after he'd finished, her face unreadable. Voices nibbled at the back of Vali's mind, taunting him and laughing that she could no longer love him, that he would be thrust from her like the monster he was. He should have known better.

Sigyn stood and sat beside him, her hand trailing through his hair as she pulled him to her and kissed the top of his head.

"Do you want me to tell your brother?"

And only then did Vali release the tension he did not realize he'd been holding. He returned his mother's embrace and sighed.

"No, in this we two are the same. I should tell him."

Afterward he went to the library. The ball of writhing emotions he'd swallowed was coughed back up and crushed in his hands, fused into raw energy that fueled him as he tore through books and scrolls for answers to questions that eluded him. Surely Giant and Aesir hybrids had occurred in the past and if so someone would have written of it! What was he? For Nari, he needed an answer. A half-Jotun raised strictly Aesir made him more Asgardian than Frost Giant, right? Or was there more he simply didn't realize due to his own ignorance? Was this form he wore merely like a cloak, hiding what he was, or a facet of the whole?

In the end, the librarian took one look at the mess he'd made and chased him out, cursing. But it was for the best, for it was not in the written word he found the answer, but in the dark solitude of his own room. It was no great revelation, merely a fact he accepted with a shrug.

"I am both. I am neither. I am Vali."

That night, he successfully shape-shifted for the first time, and come morning he woke with a strange sense of calm. He was different in a way he could not describe even to himself.

He wished his father were here.

Nari plopped down beside his elder brother, mimicking his position and letting his feet dangle off the edge of the bridge. His hands fidgeted, tapping and pulling at one of the crystals on the jagged, broken edge.

"Brother, what I am to tell you may be hard to hear. I didn't know...No one knew, and it is...interesting..."

Nari gave him a look that said 'get on with it.' While Vali was his father's son, Nari was a child of both his parents, taking the best of each and combining it to something greater. Already he had mastered their ability to _glare_ and made it truly stabbing in its effect.

Odin's beard, Vali thought with a bit of terror, he's going to be absolutely _fearsome_ when he's grown!

Vali cleared his throat and continued. "Father, and we two...we are not Aesir, not as they are generally known. Father was a Jotun, brought back by the All-Father after the war on Jotunheim had ended..." He braved on, telling the tale as Odin had told it, making sure to add, for his brother's benefit, that regardless of their lack of blood relation that they were still loved by their family, that they belonged here, despite the hissing doubt that began to form questions once again in his mind.

Nari sat quietly for many moments after Vali had finished, feet kicking and hand pulling at a crystal. It came free in his hand and he tossed it away, and both brothers watched it fall, glittering, much as their father had done.

"What does it mean?" Nari asked, leaning forward to watch the receding crystal.

"Nothing, really. We have always been what we are, the only difference is that now we're aware of it."

"Of why we've never fit in?"

Vali flinched. He'd always hoped to protect Nari from that harsh fact. "Yes, brother."

Nari pulled free another crystal and flicked it away. "So be it."

Vali stared at his little brother for a long time, then pulled him into an awkward but tight embrace. "Oh my brother," he sighed, "my clever, understanding brother..."

"Stop it," Nari whined, pushing against him. He was in no mood for cuddling at that moment.

Vali chuckled and released him and the two sat in companionable silence. Another crystal was pulled loose under Nari's hand and Vali could _feel_ Heimdall twitch.

"Does this mean I'm gonna grow up really big?" Another crystal was tossed away.

"Oh yes, you'll -_stop_ that- grow as big as Uncle Thor, maybe bigger. They'll sing songs of you, of Nari the Giant."

Nari beamed and wiggled in place in pleasure, fantasies of himself, tall as a tree and having adventures, dancing through his mind. In each one, brave Thor fought beside him, beaming upwards in pride at his nephew. Vali didn't have the heart to tell his brother that he was just as fine-boned as their father, and neither of them were really of warrior caliber.

So he let Nari dream and continued to watch the crystals fall. Bright as they were, he could still see them for a very long time, glistening with power found nowhere else, for there was nothing like Bifrost in all of Yggdrasil…

Nothing like it...only found in one place...

"Nari, you're a genius," Vali hissed, jumping into a crouch and pulling crystals from Bifrost's broken edge. He purposely went for the larger crystals, long and easily gripped in his hand, though they came loose with greater difficulty.

Heimdall cleared his throat behind him, and _loudly_.

"I'm sorry, Heimdall," Vali said as he pulled at a particularly stubborn crystal. It came out with a crackling _pop!_ and Vali dropped back on his rear. He set it aside and glanced at the Gatekeeper over his shoulder, adding, apologetically, "They're going to repair it anyway."

One after another, Vali liberated a crystal, one for each realm. The last, heavy in his hand and glowing, was for Helheim. Pulling off his heavy cote, Vali lay the crystals upon it and hefted the bundle in his arms.

"Come on, Nari. We've intruded upon good Heimdall's hospitality enough for one day."

"Yes brother." Nari scrambled to his feet and hurried after Vali, whose longer legs were already moving with quick strides.

Vali paused beside the Guardian, letting his brother get ahead, and gazed up into Heimdall's magnificent eyes.

"I have to try," is all he says, and Heimdall nods in understanding.

It is after Vali begins jogging after his brother that Heimdall finally speaks, his deep voice carrying without being raised. "It would be fortuitous to bring a horse next time you intend to pay a visit."

He could both hear and see Vali laugh as he took the long way back to the citadel.


	6. Big Brother

He'd never noticed how cold it was down here before. The dank, chill air penetrated his heavy cote and he shivered, breath escaping between his lips in misty plumes. He'd only been down here with his father, whose presence had sucked away the cold and whose voice had chased away the oppressive silence.

Only his father's presence had soothed the room's lone occupant, allowing Vali to get near. He doubted he could do so alone, he would have to keep his distance.

He should not be here.

Time passed slowly in Asgard, moving in tandem with the reconstruction of the Bifrost. During those nights, Vali would sit on his bed until the light of dawn shown through his window, etching runes ever so carefully into the crystals he'd collected from the bridge. Each was labeled with their destination and his own name. Legs curled underneath him, he would not move, save the dexterous twist of his fingers and wrists, and as the hours past his eyes would burn from strain. By the time sunlight pierced between the window curtains, Vali collapsed onto his pillows, head pounding and groaning as the servants entered to pull him from bed.

During the day, Vali would drag his kicking and whining little brother into the training ring near the citadel. Nari was of age to begin the most basic of warrior training, a task that would have fallen to Loki, but now the responsibility was Vali's. He remembered quite well his own initiation into the sandy ring. He too had cried and refused to cooperate, arguing that he wanted to be a sorcerer like Loki, thus he didn't _need_ to learn to fight. His father had promptly thrashed him and told him coldly that if he didn't want to fight, he could borrow a dress from Sif and go pick flowers in the fields like the other girls his age. Shamed, Vali stopped arguing.

Loki had softened then, and offered his son a choice. Vali could train with the other boys, of the proper art of war of Asgard and develop his magic on his own, as Loki had once done, or he could learn under his father alone. Loki would teach him in the method of battle that allowed him to use his magic most effectively when combined with physical attacks. Vali had chosen the second offer, and did not regret it, though his father never went easy on him. Too many times he'd found himself standing at the bottom of the steps to his father's wing, unable to ascend for the soreness of his limbs. Once or twice his uncle had taken pity on him and carried him up the stairs.

But Vali could not bring himself to strike his unprepared brother, even with simple training weapons, so went for the use of his words instead.

"I thought you wanted to join Uncle Thor on his campaigns?" Vali began, prodding his brother with a staff.

Nari shuffled his toe in the dirt, thinking, though his arms remained tightly crossed over his chest. "Yes..."

"How will you do so if he cannot trust you to aid him in battle because you do not even know how to hold a sword?" Seeing his brother still hesitating, Vali slid the tip of his dagger-tongue into the weakening point of Nari's still-developing armor, "Think how proud our uncle would be, to see you out here training. 'What a warrior nephew I have,' he'll say."

The dagger thrust home and, within moments, Nari had a wooden sword in hand and watched attentively as Vali showed him all he could remember on the holding of the weapon and the best stances.

Come evening, Vali would join the men and women in the feasting hall, his limbs and eyelids heavy from his training sessions and lack of sleep. Too many times now he had passed into slumber on the couch in their sitting room when he should have been studying, and his mother was noticing. So Vali never stayed long, grabbing a few morsels and hurrying back to his room to start on his crystal-work early. No one paid him mind anyway, for he was Lokison, and they did not have to, for he was also not yet a man. Soon though, the time of his ascension into manhood was fast approaching, his personal armor was almost complete. In fact, it was late, and when Odin had demanded to know why, Vali had been surprised when the smith did not reveal that it was Vali who had come to him alone to make alterations to the design.

It was a strange thing, then, that had made him realize his own selfishness and continued neglect of his family. With his achieved manhood, he would be head of his immediate household, despite the fact he was not the eldest son of Loki. The thought stilled his hand and he forgot his own hunger. Instead, he took a large plate, heaping it high with a variety of foods, mostly meat, and left, leaving nothing behind but a few confused glances that were quickly wiped away. He was Lokison, and so odd by nature.

The bowels of the citadel were cold, and Vali could not comprehend why, but the coldness itself seemed to be a barrier, trying to hold him at bay. He hesitated, the chill seeping through his clothes.

He should not be here.

But he must, for nothing stood before kin, and what stronger bond than that of brotherhood? He sighed, tightened his grip on the plate of food, and entered the cell.

There was no other way to describe it. It was large but bare, lacking in any aesthetic design and nothing more than a cube cut from the otherwise shimmering material that made up Gladsheim. The cell had only one occupant, but the bulk of the great wolf seemed to engulf the entirety of the gloomy room.

"Brother."

_Well well,_ Fenrir said, as much as he actually said anything, _if it isn't the favorite son._

Vali stopped a good distance from his half-brother's large mouth. "Don't be like that. Our father loved us all."

_Our father? I do not care. I speak of Asgard. You come to me, dressed in all the finery of the pretty Aesir and deny favoritism?_

Vali winced. He could not argue that. He and Nari were the only children of Loki that received the benefit of their godly heritage. All his elder siblings save Sleipnir had been cast away to be forgotten, unworthy of the royal household. Only Hel refused to be removed from their minds, and instead became forever part of it.

"I am sorry. I thought you may wish something to eat, though it is cold now. May I approach?"

Fenrir shifted. Bound as he was by Gleipnir, he was able to move about some, more constricted by the size of the cell. _If you dare. Remember it was only our father and Tyr who ever dared come near me._

Vali placed the plate of food beside the wolf and crouched there, Fenrir's nose within his reach. "No, I recall a time you let me climb on you, though I was very young."

_Father would have been angry had I harmed you,_ Fenrir admitted, then began to eat. The food was gone in a few mere bites, but Vali could tell his brother enjoyed it. _Yet now you've come alone. Has even Father forgotten me?_

"Never, brother. But I have come to tell you news of our father, and I beg your forgiveness for not having come sooner."

_You have it, little brother. All my hate is saved for one alone, and you are not he._

Rising to his feet, Vali crossed the short distance between himself and the wolf. He sat beside him, arms encircling the large neck as much as they could, and buried his face in the thick, coarse fur. Just for a moment, he wanted to be the little brother, to receive the comfort as well as give it.

"Our father is gone, Fenrir. It is a long tale, and one I know not all, but I will tell you it if you want."

_Tell me._

Though the cold continued to sink into his very being despite his grip on his half-brother, Vali took his time. He left out nothing, not even their father's true heritage, and even included his own conjectures of what could have led to these events, certain that Fenrir had already made them. His brother was clever; how else had he managed to get Tyr's hand as payment for this imprisonment?

When the tale was done, Vali did not know what the wolf's reaction would be. Anger? Sorrow? What he did not expect was for Fenrir to raise his head, forcing Vali to let go of his neck, and snort in derision.

_Think you our father dead? Nonsense. One such as he will not die from so simple an act as a fall. It is not his way._

"I am glad to hear you think so. I was hoping..."

_You should not be. I, for one, am glad for his absence._

Vali stood, too fast and nearly stumbled. "What? Why? Do you not love our father?"

_It is because of my love I wish him gone. After all,_ Fenrir drew back his lips into a fierce smile, _I would not wish him to witness the day I break free and swallow Odin False-Father whole!_

Fenrir laughed then, as a wolf would, mouth open with the lips drawn back, exposing his fangs, and tongue extended and curled. The sound was a choking keen that set Vali scrambling.

He grabbed the plate and ran. The sound of Fenrir's hideous laugh followed him until the air grew warm and sweet again.


	7. Morning Mischief

AN: This took a long time to get out, and I'm sorry about that. It's been written for a long time, 'cause it was meant to be longer, but looking at it I realized it makes a good chapter in itself. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>The last tiny piece of crystal tumbled away, leaving behind the perfect shape of a rune. Vali set aside his tools and stared at the final crystal, destined for Helheim. He was finished, every crystal labeled and spelled to protect it from any mishaps that may befall it. The crystal was heavy in his hand and still hummed with energy held within its form, waiting to be expelled.<p>

The Bifrost was nearly repaired; Vali now had only to wait.

Light began to filter in through the curtains of his window when he replaced the crystal in a box with its brethren, then slid them all into hiding. His mother must have noticed his tiredness, though she blamed it on his mourning, and had dismissed the servants from their waking duty. Vali dressed down to his sleeping shirt and sighed as he fell into his pillows, prepared to sleep all afternoon and then some.

He'd barely sunk into a pleasant doze when his door banged open, followed by the swift pattering of light feet across the floor and the bounce of a body landing on his bed.

"Vali! What are you doing? Get up, get up!" Nari yelled, bouncing on his knees in an attempt to oust his brother from bed. "C'mon! We're late! Why are you still in bed? We have to train!"

When did Nari decide that his training was a pleasure? Vali rolled onto his side, back to his brother. "Not today, Nari. I'm tired."

"No, you're just lazy." Nari flopped onto his back and began drumming his heels between Vali's shoulders, "Get up, get up, get up!"

"Nari, I swear, I'm going to count to three…!"

Habit forced Nari to still. Their father would start this way when they misbehaved, and whatever threat that followed was not to be treated lightly. 'Three' was also misleading. If the boys weren't doing exactly as they'd been instructed by 'two,' they were going to _get it_, and _it_ could be anything their father found fitting at the time. When Vali was little, it was often a swat on his behind, a harsh rap across his knuckles, or a slap on the wrists. As he got older and the risk of a bit of pain was outdone by the rewards of whatever misdeed he was attempting, his father became more creative.

Once, Loki had dragged him down to the royal stables and left him outside. All smiles and pleasantness, Loki informed the stable hands that they could take the day off, handing out coins on the suggestion that they go have a drink, on him. When they were gone, Loki pulled Vali in and, with a pat on the shoulder, told his son to get to work. Vali spent the entire day brushing down and feeding the horses, mucking the stalls and putting down fresh straw while his father watched, sharing an apple with Sleipnir. Finally, tired, filthy, and a whole day wasted, Vali threw down the pitchfork.

"It's not fair!" Vali cried, standing before his father.

"It's punishment. What did you expect?"

"You break the rules all the time! Now when I do it, you punish me!"

Loki handed off the last of the apple to Sleipnir and picked up the pitchfork, twirling it slowly in his hands. "Yes, no one understands the art of lawbreaking better than I. Truth be told, son, when it comes to matters of mischief, I don't care what you do. I don't punish you for what you did, but that you _got_ _caught_. If you break the rules, expect to be able to get yourself out of it or face retribution. But if you don't get caught, well, then you don't have to deal with either. Quite the bit of a time saver, really."

Vali scuffed the floor with his boot, frustrated. "Grandfather never made you clean the stables…" he muttered.

"No, I had my lips sewn shut. You're getting off easy," Loki snapped, poking Vali in the chest with the pitchfork handle.

"Yes, Father."

"Alright then, what's the lesson?"

"Don't get caught."

"_Behave_ or don't get caught, or next time you'll be out here all night as well. Now go get cleaned up, I'll finish here. If I let you go to dinner like that Mother will flay me."

As for Nari, still young but reaching beyond where pain kept him in line, their father had merely stood over him, glowering, as though in thought, as his youngest wait with his arm extended, anticipating his punishment.

Loki didn't like people anticipating his actions.

He finally shrugged. "No, I think I'll let your mother deal with you. Where is she?"

The color had drained from Nari's face and he'd burst into tears, promising he'd never do it again and he'd be good, honest!

Of course, Vali was not Loki, and not half as threatening. Still, Nari stopped kicking his elder brother and instead draped over him, peering at his half-buried face.

"If you don't train me, how am I to become a great warrior? Uncle Thor won't want me around."

"Nonsense. He loves you, thinks you're as cute as a button," Vali murmured, shutting his eyes.

Nari grimaced and dropped onto his back, arms crossed and radiating petulance. "I am _not_ cute! I am Nari Half-Giant, future mighty warrior of Asgard!"

"As glad as I am that you've embraced your heritage, please don't go yelling that about."

Nari rolled his eyes. "M'not stupid."

"Good. Now, do what you want, but I'm going back to sleep."

"No you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No you're not."

"I am."

"Not."

"Am."

"Not."

"Nari!"

"Fine, I'll just go sit somewhere, alone, because my older brother doesn't love me enough to teach me to kill things."

"That's _it_!" Vali snapped, and in one fluid motion, rolled over and lunged for his brother. Nari shrieked and jumped back as Vali grabbed for him, and the two wrestled over the bed until they fell off, landing in a tangle of sheets. Taking a firm hold of his little brother's slippery form, Vali pinned him to the floor.

"Mighty warrior, huh? Not until you learn to defeat _this_ attack! No mercy!"

Nari squealed loudly as his brother began to tickle him, laughing maniacally. No matter how Nari flailed or attempted to speak, Vali's dexterous hands found their mark. He was saved only by their mother coming to investigate the racket.

"A little old for this sort of thing, aren't you, Vali?" she said from the doorway.

"He started it," Vali smirked, sitting back. Nari kicked him.

Sigyn sighed at the sight of her sons on the floor in a pile of blankets, Nari panting with a flushed face, tears in his eyes, and Vali barely dressed. It was hardly becoming of two princes of Asgard, and yet it was so good to see them laughing and playing as they once had, before their family cracked and splintered, a vital piece disappearing into the unknown. She smiled a little, wishing she could laugh with them, but her bed remained too cold and empty and she had not the warmth to do so. How she loathed returning to it, night after night.

"Just keep it down, both of you. It's far too early in the morning."

"Yes, Mother," her sons chimed as she left them, returning to her solitude.

Vali turned and slumped against the bed beside his brother, fingers massaging his temple. He was so tired. Nari climbed into his lap and sat facing him.

"Still going back to sleep?" Nari asked with the slightly smug air of one who already knew the answer.

"Far too awake now, thanks to you," Vali grumbled.

"Good. Can we go train now?"

Vali chuckled, and leaned forward to place a kiss on his sibling's head. "Fine, you win. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you in the sitting room."

Nari gave a whoop of joy and dashed from the room, leaving Vali alone to pull himself together.


End file.
